


Wet Handed

by Ironkhaleesi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, BDSM, Bondage, Car Sex, Couch Sex, Deep throat, Double Penetration, F/M, Female Masturbation, Fingering, Male Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral female receiving, Orgasm Denial, Public Sex, Smut, Vibrator, oral male receiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 09:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16679140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironkhaleesi/pseuds/Ironkhaleesi
Summary: Sam and Dean left you with one rule - don’t touch yourself while we’re gone. Unable to last the week, Sam caught you wet handed. Your punishment? The Winchester brothers edge you for seven days. No cumming.





	1. Caught

You tried to be a good girl. You really did. God, the way Sam and Dean worshipped you when you were a good girl. The way they praised you. The way they made you cum around their fingers and tongues and cocks.

Fuck … it was pure bliss.

And then they left for a hunt. It was a two-man job, but it was also a new monster. While they got out into the fresh air, you volunteered to stay behind and research. They left you with the same command they always left you with – be a good girl and don’t touch yourself while we’re gone.

It was cruel, but it made for some intense orgasms when they got home. Except, this time it had been a week and a half. You already passed your usual time limit. They never left you alone this long.

The itch to slide your fingers through your folds got too hard not to scratch. You wanted to be a good girl for them. So bad. But they’d gone radio silent for the past few days, so you hadn’t had the usual encouragement to do as you were told.

And so, against your better judgement, you did exactly what they told you not to. But fuck did it feel good. You treated yourself all day. Made up for lost time. Made up for all the orgasms you could have been having.

Your body was lax and you were giddy by the time you decided to have one last go. It was easy to conjure up images of Sam and Dean doing what they do best. They’d left you with a plethora of memories for your spank bank. It had been a long time since you used porn.

Sam was best with his tongue. Dean his fingers. And when they worked together … oh, boy.

Your toes curled into the mattress, thighs shook, and you collapsed into a fit of giggles as the aftershocks racked your body.

“Glad you’re having fun.”

You shot up. Stomach dropped when you saw Sam at the end of your bed. Arms crossed and an amused glint in his eye.

You shuffled back against the headboard and brought your knees to your chest. “You’re home.”

Sam dragged his bottom lip through his teeth and nodded. “Yeah. We, uh, we got the creep. Our phones got busted, though. Guess we would’ve been calling at a bad time.”

You ducked your head. “I would’ve told you what I did.”

“I believe you. Doesn’t mean you’re not getting punished.”

Your head snapped up. “Are you gonna make me tell Dean?”

“I’ll tell him.”

That was a relief, at least. Telling Dean you’d done something wrong made your stomach churn. He was all hard looks that made you want to cry. Sammy was easy. He had a nice smile. Kind eyes. He liked when you misbehaved.

Telling Dean … he grew up with a disciplinary for a dad. He was never mean or cruel – he’d cut out his own tongue before he ever treated you like that – but when you didn’t do what you were told … It just felt like you disappointed him. And that cut you up inside because his life was filled with disappointing people. 

“How many days did you do it?” Sam said.

You were quick with your answer. “Just today.” You’d be damned if you were punished for doing it any more than that.

He nodded. Trusting your answer. You pressed your lips together and curled your toes. You knew he’d assume it was just the once. That it was just your bad luck he’d caught you at the wrong time. Any other person might have let him think that. But the idea of deceiving either of the Winchesters – even by omission – made you sick.

“I did it a lot, though,” you whispered, ducking your head.

His breathed out a short laugh. “I’ll bet you did.” He dropped his arms and gestured for you. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, you went to him. Not caring that you were naked, you shuffled on your knees to the end of the bed and sat back on your heels to look up at him.

He cupped your face in his hand and traced his thumb over your bottom lip. “I’m sorry we were gone so long. Should’ve brought you with us.”

You nuzzled the palm of his hand. “You needed me here.”

“I need you by my side.” He brushed your hair back from your face with his other hand and bent down to kiss you. “I have half a mind to force another few orgasms out of you. No matter how much it hurts,” he murmured against your lips.

You hummed and drew his hand down your body to rest between your legs. He gave you a light slap and chuckled when you sucked in a breath.

“You’d like that too much,” he said as he straightened. You pouted when his hands slipped away. “Get dressed then come see Dean. He’s missed you. I’ll soften him up for you.” He winked and flashed his dimples.

****

“Be gentle,” Sam said to Dean as they stood in the kitchen.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re tryna say, Sammy.”

Sam cocked a brow. “I’m saying, every time she misbehaves you get this – this disapproving look on your face.”

“Well, yeah,” Dean said, spreading his arms. “’Cause she did wrong.”

“I know that,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “But it makes her feel like she’s disappointed you.”

“She could never disappoint me,” Dean growled. Just the thought of that was alien to him. You were perfect. Flaws and all.

“Right, okay, so maybe you let her know that.”

Dean sighed in discomfort at the thought of sharing any of his feelings, but Sam didn’t get any more time to convince him before you shuffled into the room. Your hands twisted in front of you. Eyes downcast. Sam pulled you into him when you shifted closer.

“Hi,” you said. Voice meek. It hurt Dean to know that he was the reason for it.

He looked at Sam who gave him a meaningful look, then kissed the top of your head and left the two of you alone.

You stared at your feet. Toes curled and uncurled against the floor. Dean hated how fragile you looked then. The first time he met you, you’d been sprayed with vamps blood, standing in a pile of their bodies. Amount of times you went toe to toe with him, had him eating his words, was enough to make anyone wonder how the hell you could ever be submissive to him.

Yet here you were. On the verge of tears because you’d touched yourself when he told you not to. He had no words.

“I missed you,” you said. “I’m sorry for not being good.” It felt like he’d been cut off at the knees.

He sighed and yanked your body towards him. “I know you are, baby girl. C’mere.”

He hoisted you off the ground. Your arms and legs wrapped around him as he squeezed you, burying his face into your neck.

“I care about you,” he murmured. “But you won’t enjoy your punishment.” It was the closest he could get to what Sam wanted. And just saying those first four words had almost ripped open his throat.

When you shivered and squeezed him tighter, he wished he had the strength to tell you everything that went through his mind when he looked at you.


	2. Day 1

It was the day after Sam and Dean had come home. You were surprised when they didn’t mete out your punishment but, rather, carried on as though everything was normal – minus the sex, of course. That, at least, fit your expectations.

In the end, you figured they were just tired from the long case. So, you took advantage and enjoyed the time you had for the moment. When you woke up the next morning with still no punishment – or sex – in sight, you decided to catch up on the book that hunting had been getting in the way of for months.

You lounged back in the couch you’d brought for the bunker library. Dean was a fan of spontaneous sex and the library chairs were not kind on your body. Wearing one of the boys’ flannels, you weren’t entirely sure which it belonged to. Going commando had been a consideration, but with your punishment ever looming, you didn’t think teasing would be appreciated. So, you’d thrown on some cotton underwear beneath it.

Of course, you had your feet resting along the back of the couch and the shirt caught around your waist with only one button done up over your breasts. If Sam or Dean walked in on you and found their jeans to suddenly be too tight … well, you couldn’t take full responsibility for what got them off.

It was half an hour before one of them decided to do more than just pass through the library to get a peek at your partial state of undress. The couch cushion dipped, and you lowered your book to smile up at Dean. He had one knee pressed into the cushion near your ass – half-kneeling in front of you.

His tongue flicked out over his bottom lip. “Having fun teasing us?”

Your brows knitted together in faux confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?”

You shook your head and lifted your book once more. It was ripped from your hands in seconds and thrown across the room. You sighed and gave Dean a pointed look.

“Someone wants attention,” you said.

He cocked his brow. Voice deep and gravely, he growled, “Watch your mouth, baby girl.”

Eyes locked with his, you lifted a foot to rub against his chest. “I’m already getting punished. What else can you do to me?” He was the pissed off bear, and you were poking him. Heart in your throat. Adrenaline coursed through your veins. But you would’ve never become a hunter if you didn’t get off on that feeling.

You dragged your foot down and pressed it against the bulge of his jeans. He growled and grabbed your ankle, yanking it to the side as he pressed your other ankle into the back of the couch. You were spread open for him.

Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you slid your hands up to squeeze your breasts through the shirt. “Maybe if I misbehave enough, you’ll finally fuck me.”

“That’s what you want? You want to be fucked?” He shrugged a shoulder. Nonchalant but you knew he was feeling anything but. “Fine.”

He tore open his belt and jeans. As he pulled out his cock, he spat into his other hand then wrapped it around himself. He watched you as he jerked off.

“Open the shirt,” he said.

You undid the button and let it fall open. Without prompting, you squeezed your breasts again and tweaked your nipples.

With a groan, he bent over you and sucked one into his mouth. Your breath hitched when he caught it between his teeth and pulled.

Straightening once more, he let his head fall back. Pumped his hand faster. “Oh, fuck. Pull your panties to the side.”

You licked your lips in anticipation as you did so. Before you could fully expose yourself he pushed into you. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, and he let out a long groan as he buried himself to the hilt.

“Missed this,” he mumbled. Then he scooped your hands up in one of his and pinned then above your head against the arm of the couch. He slipped his other hand behind your knee and pushed it up until your hips tilted with it. It was the perfect angle for him to hit that perfect spot.

There was no easing into it from there. You’d asked to be fucked, and fucked is exactly what you got. His thrusts were brutal. Grip bruising. It became apparent a few minutes in that he wasn’t trying to make you cum, he was chasing his own orgasm.

He hadn’t touched your clit once, and whilst the angle of his thrust felt good enough that you made some noise, there was no way it was going to make you cum.

“Dean,” you whined as you tried to pull your hands down and give yourself what you needed. He didn’t let go. “Touch me, please. I need you to.”

His nose crinkled. Teeth clenched. He fucked harder, but he didn’t give you what you wanted. You sobbed out his name and tried to roll your hips to get the friction you wanted. The angle didn’t allow it.

His moans grew deeper. Movements erratic. One last hard thrust and his head dropped to your chest as he released into you with a shout. Blunt nails dug into your skin.

The grip on your wrists loosened. You didn’t give him a chance to recover before you pulled them free and slapped his sides. “Dean, what the hell? You didn’t even try to make me cum.”

Even as he panted and sat back in the couch to tuck himself away, he smiled at you. “I said I’d fuck you. I didn’t say I’d make you cum.”

You growled in frustration and got to your feet.

“Hey, come here.” He caught your wrist as you marched past and pulled you down to straddle his lap. “You want to cum?” He slid two fingers through your folds then circled them over your clit. Your mouth dropped open on a surprised moan. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you breathed.

There was no build up. His fingers worked fast right off the bat. Normally, that wouldn’t work for you, but after the way he’d fucked you your body was already rearing to go. You pressed your forehead to his. Tried to kiss him. All you could do was moan into his mouth and cling to his shoulders.

He slipped a hand into your hair and pulled your head back so he could look at your face.

“You look so beautiful when you cum,” he said. “And when you cum around my dick? Baby, it’s better than heaven. First time I ever saw it, I wanted to be there with you every time it happened. And if I couldn’t be there, I wanted Sammy to see it. But we weren’t with you yesterday, were we? Answer me.”

You cried out when his hand tightened in your hair. “No.”

“No. We weren’t.” You rolled your hips against him as you chased your orgasm. The lewdest sounds fell from your lips. “We didn’t get to see you cum.” You were right on the edge. Just a few more strokes of his fingers. “So, you don’t get to cum today.” He pulled his hand away and you cried out at the loss. Your cunt pulsed with need.

“No. Dean, please. You can’t –”

“I can and I will. I said you wouldn’t like your punishment.”

You growled in frustration and slapped your hand against his shoulder. “You’re an ass,” you snapped as you collapsed to your back on the couch.

For a moment, you felt him stare at you. You expected some sort of retaliation for your comment, but this was the first time you’d been this angry about your punishments. You either loved them or were apologetic afterwards. You’d never lashed out like that.

Without a word, Dean stood and walked away. Tears pricked your eyes at the sound of his jeans and belt being done up. You had a sudden feeling of being used.

This wasn’t the first time you’d been treated like a piece of meat during sex. You loved when the boys used you for their pleasure. But you always got pleasure in return, and afterwards, they always showered you with love and affection. Especially after you’d been punished.

This time, though, Dean just walked away.

Just as a sob caught in your throat he appeared by your side again. The book you were reading earlier in his hands. He placed it down on your stomach. The cover was bent, so were some of the pages, but his hands were gentle as he handled it.

He braced his hands on either side of your head and bent down to kiss you. You turned your face away. It gave him pause.

He was a proud man. If any other woman had shunned him like that, he would have left them alone without a second thought. He wasn’t the type of man to chase and placate. But you weren’t just another woman to him. You were the love of his life. He would do anything to make you happy.

He just wished he knew how to tell you that.

“You know why I’m doing this, right?” he said. Voice soft. Vulnerable. It reminded you he wasn’t the hard man he always showed himself to be. He cared. He loved. He had feelings you were capable of hurting.

You pressed your lips together but turned your face back to him. He pressed a chaste kiss to the hard line of your mouth. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t return the kiss. He knew you were just as proud as him. Too proud to give in to his affection.

And he was too broken to say the words you really needed to hear.


	3. Day 2

Dressed in just a fitted tank top and panties, you rifled through the bottom shelf of the fridge. Sam’s hands were rough and large, and you jumped when they slid over your hips. With a laugh of relief, you straightened and closed the fridge.

“I was wondering how long it would take you,” you murmured as he pulled you back against him and pressed his lips to your neck.

“Dean got first dibs,” he said, voice muffled by your skin.

You sighed. “Don’t talk about Dean to me.”

Sam’s arms wrapped around you. More comforting than sexual now. “I heard what he did. I might’ve given him an earful.”

“Good.”

“He’s still learning.”

You let your head fall back against Sam as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “He’s so … emotionally distant. What if he doesn’t change?”

“He will,” Sam said. “He loves you too much not to.”

“What if –”

“Shh. I haven’t been between your legs in days.” He pressed his face to the side of yours and groped your breasts. “Let’s not talk for a while.”

You grinned. “No talking? Really?”

“You could say something dirty if you really want to.”

“Like what?”

“Like …” he slid one hand down your torso, “you could tell me how much you want my mouth on your cunt.” You sank your teeth into your bottom lip as his fingers delved beneath your underwear. “You could tell me how bad you want me to suck on this sweet spot right here.” He pressed against your clit. “How deep you want my tongue to go. How hard you want me to pinch these.” You cried out when his fingertips tightened around your nipple.

“I want it,” you panted. “I want it all.”

“What do you want?” he said. You whined. “Be a good girl and beg for it.”

“Please, Sammy. I want you to eat my cunt. Fuck me with your tongue. Please.”

He groaned and left a hot, wet kiss on your neck, catching your flesh between his teeth and sucking for a moment. Your eyes fluttered shut and you pressed your ass back into him as his fingers worked your clit and nipple.

“Tell me how much you missed my cock,” he breathed in your ear. Your cunt spasmed and Sam dipped his fingers down further to gather up your slick and spread it over your clit.

“I thought about it every night,” you said. “Fucking me. Hard. Deep.” You let out a moan when his fingers worked faster and he dipped his tongue into your ear. “It made me so wet, Sammy.”

He smiled. “I got your pictures. Made me so fucking hard, baby. Was all I could do not to whip my dick out and jack off while Dean was driving. You didn’t send any to him?”

“I thought I could get you to have phone sex. Let me cum for you. Dean wouldn’t’ve done it.”

He chuckled. Yanked your panties down a few inches to smack your cunt. “Thought you could make me cave, huh? I told Dean he was being too harsh with the punishment, but damn … maybe he was right.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned, remembering how much your body ached for the brothers the day before. How you were left wet and needy.

He squeezed your breast, his fingers digging into your flesh while he pushed two inside you. “I can’t wait to fuck you again. To cum deep …” He punctuated the last word by pushing his fingers as deep as he could and curling them.

Your nails sank into his arm. “I need you, Sammy.”

“I know, baby. Why don’t you take off these clothes and hop up on the table for me? In front of a chair.”

You did as he asked. Core clenching as you watched him take off his coat and flannel, leaving him in a shirt and worn jeans. The ache intensified when he pushed you to lean back on your hands and grabbed the lengths of rope off the hook by the door.

His lips curled when he saw the excitement in your eyes. The vibration of your body. The rope was rough, but Sam was gentle as he secured one around each of your legs. He tied them off around a table leg each. Pulled on your hips until your ass hit the edge and you were spread open for him.

He dumped the last length of rope beside you. “That’s in case you get too handsy,” he said to your questioning look as he took a seat in front of you. An amused glint in his eye said he knew he was going to have to use it.

You flicked your tongue over your bottom lip as his rough hands stroked down the insides of your thighs. His thumbs massaged your outer lips before pulling them wide open. He dipped a finger between your inner folds and drew the moisture up to your clit. Lifted his other hand to pull back the hood. Your legs jerked and you sucked in a breath as the tip of his finger circled the exposed nub.

He grinned. Eyes flicked up to you as he pulled his fingers away. “I missed you,” he said as he pushed his hands up to fondle your breasts then glide them back down.

Your heart fluttered at the words. Sam was always vocal about what you meant to him. How he hated going anywhere without you. Even if it was just to the store. Where Dean struggled to even say he loved you. Sam didn’t go a single day without letting you know how he felt.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah. Every day.” He thought for a moment as his fingers played absently over your outer lips. “Dean was getting pissed about me moping.” He spread your lips wide again. “Or maybe he was just missing this as much as I was.”

Before you could make a comment, he leaned forward and licked a stripe from bottom to top of your aching cunt. Lips wrapped around your clit and he gave a hard suck.

Your head fell back. Brows furrowed. “Oh, my God. Sammy.”

“I missed how good you taste,” he groaned against your flesh. His tongue dipped down to push inside you. Thrusting in and out a few times before he went back to sucking on your clit.

You fell to your back and threaded your fingers through his hair. Dragged your nails along his scalp at leisure as his tongue flicked and circled your engorged clit. His lips a seal of suction around your flesh. Fingers kept you spread wide.

Your legs shook. Body jerked. Moisture dripped its way from your cunt down your ass to the table. “Fuck, Sammy. You’re so good at that. You’re gonna make me cum so hard.”

He stood suddenly, your hands slipping from him. “Sorry, baby. Not happening today.”

“What?” Your brow furrowed as you watched him pick up the discarded rope and round the table. It dawned on you as he began knotting each end of the rope around your wrists. “No, Sammy. Not again. Don’t do what Dean did. Please. I’ll be good from now on. Just let me cum, Sammy. Please.”

“You know your safe word.” There was a tug as Sam looped the rope around the hook he’d drilled in under the table. Your arms stretched above your head. “Seven days without cumming is what you get.”

“Nooo. Sammy. Please.”

He chuckled and braced his fists on either side of you. His biceps bulged as he lowered himself to kiss you. “Like I said,” he pushed himself up and went back to the chair, “you know your safe word. Say it, and I put a stop to the punishment.”

It was tempting. To just blurt it out so you could skate past this torture. But that was a breach of trust. If you said it, Sam would think you were hurting. There’d be a long discussion. A revisit of your limits. And if he found out you’d just used it as an excuse to get out of punishment … the relationship would be broken. He wouldn’t trust you like that anymore.

Compared to his brother, Sam was relentless in his torture. Where Dean was fast and hard, borderline cruel with his teasing and denying, Sam was patient and slow and affectionate. His tongue would swirl around your clit, push into you and fuck you. As soon as you were on the edge he’d pull back and trail wet kisses up and down your inner thighs. Whispering praise and loving words.

He tugged at your heart as sweetly as he tugged at your clit.

He’d slurp up all the moisture from the table and your ass. Lick around your outer lips, and then he’d shove his tongue right back in. Suck your clit back into his mouth.

Finally, he got to a point where you were a shaking, moaning, whining mess. He only had to touch the tip of his tongue to your clit for pleasure to radiate through your core. He did it. Over and over and over again. Flick your clit and back away for a second or two before doing it again.

You yanked on your restraints. “Fuck. Sam. Just let me cum. Please.”

“You’re so fucking wet,” Sam said as he pulled back and wiped an arm across his mouth. “You know … I was gonna do it with you - wait. I didn’t want you to suffer on your own.” He reached down and, you think, squeezed his hard cock through his jeans. “I don’t know how long I can go without cumming.”

You let out a low whine. Your cunt ached for him. “Then don’t wait. Just fuck me, Sammy. We can both cum right now.”

He chuckled. “You’re not getting out of it that easy.”

He stood. Braced himself over you again. He didn’t lower himself this time. Just smiled down at you. Eyes trailed your body before raising back to yours. He pressed his jean-clad cock against your core. The rough material of his jeans scratched your mound.

Your mouth dropped open on a moan as he ground himself against you. “I’ll try and wait. Just for you.” He lowered himself to his elbows. Pressed his body against yours. His shirt scrapped against your nipples and you tried to push your body harder against him.

“Please,” you whined.

He smiled and continued to thrust against you. “I love you, baby. But no.”

You huffed. “Fine. But if you really want to edge yourself, you have to fuck me or undo the ropes.” His brow furrowed in confusion. “You’re not gonna understand what I feel if you just tease yourself. You have to get right up to the point of cumming and then stop.”

His eyes narrowed. The corner of his mouth curled up. He straightened. “You’re baiting me.”

You shrugged the best you could with your arms stretched over your head. “Untie me and find out.”

Sam grinned and lifted his gaze to the area behind you where the door was. “She this bratty with you?”

You tilted your head back as much as you could to see Dean leaning against the door frame. He gave you and his brother a tight smile. Eyes skating away from you.

You could feel him pull away. Knew that Sam’s earlier words to him caused it. That he was second-guessing himself and this arrangement.

Were it any other time, you would have gone to him. Given him a kick in the ass and told him he was stupid if he thought he could just back out now. But it wasn’t any other moment. You were tied naked to a table. Body singing beneath Sam’s touch. Mind in subspace.

The distance in Dean felt like a knife to the heart. Tears sprung to your eyes at the feel of his rejection.

“Untie me,” you whispered.

Sam, whose brow had been furrowed at the look on Dean’s face, wasted no time doing what you asked. You hadn’t said your safe word, but you didn’t need to. Sam heard it in your voice.

The first tear fell as he undid your hands. As soon as they were free, you sat up and undid the binds on your legs. A sob caught in your throat.

Dean’s stare felt like it was burning a hole in your back as you tugged on your clothes. Before you could leave. Sam wrapped a hand around your arm and pulled you close. Leant down until his breath caressed your ear.

“Go straight to my room,” he said. “We’re done with this for the day, but you need the aftercare. I’ll be there soon.”

You gave him a curt nod and left the kitchen. Lips pressed together and eyes down-cast as you brushed past Dean.

With puppy dog eyes, Dean shuffled into the kitchen. “Is she still mad at me?”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah. A little, I guess. But that’s not what made her cry.”

“What happened?”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Sam let out a sigh. A part of him wondered if it had been a good idea to bring Dean into this when he’d never had any experience as a Dom. “She was in subspace, Dean. The most emotionally fragile place anyone can be in. Then you come in here, looking like you’re about to break things off with her.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “I’m – I’m not,” he said, shifting on his feet.

“Really?” Sam spread his arms. “‘Cause you look like you might. She’s not in a rational place right now. You have to be careful about the way you act. Even the way you look at her. If you can’t do that, then you can’t be around her when she’s in this state of mind. You could really hurt her, Dean.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped. As he looked about, Sam realised he’d never seen his brother so lost before. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I’m – I’m not good at this, Sammy.”

“You think we are? You think it’s easy for her to be this emotionally vulnerable with us? Because it’s not, Dean. But we have the privilege of her trust. She does it because she believes we would never use it against her. Never hurt her.”

Dean shrugged. Let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, well, trusting people has never been my forte.”

Frustration churned in Sam’s gut. He wanted his brother to take this seriously. To stop brushing this off and hiding his feelings. He wanted to scream. But unending patience was something he’d learned since being with you.

“Look,” Sam said as he shifted closer to Dean, “no matter what you feel for Y/N, she’s still my wife. I’m the one that married her. I’m the one that dated her for five years before you got up the courage to tell me you loved her. I brought you into this relationship … you need to trust her.”

Or I’ll take you out of it.

The words didn’t need to be said. They hung heavy in the air. Sam could see the weight of them settle on Dean’s shoulders. A life without you … it wasn’t something to take lightly.


	4. Day 3

Warm fingertips feathered along Sam’s hairline. He drew in a deep breath. Eyes closed but his hands still able to follow the map of your body. Lips brushed the tip of his nose and his cheeks dimpled. Naked body pressed against his. Thigh draped over his waist.

He groaned in mock disapproval of his awakening. You weren’t fooled. Not even a little bit.

“Come on, Sammy,” you whispered. “You know you want to make me cum right now.”

A sleepy chuckle rumbled through his body. Large, rough hands caressed your back. “Nice try,” he murmured. “Week’s not up.”

You brushed your nose against his. Teased his lips with yours. “Dean doesn’t have to know.”

A hiss rushed through your teeth when he left a red handprint on your ass. “You want to push it to two weeks?”

You whined and pressed your core to his abdomen. “I know you miss it.”

“Is that right?” he said. He refused to open his eyes and give in to you, but fuck did you make it hard.

“Yeah. Why don’t you tell me how much you miss me cumming on your cock?”

He smiled and shook his head as best he could. “I’m not playing this game, Y/N. I won’t fold.”

His eyes finally opened when you pushed him to his back and straddled his hips. Rough fingers tightened on your thighs when his cock nestled between your folds.

“No games. We’re just talking,” you said with a smile.

“Sure we are.”

You rocked your hips. Hands trailed over your body as you looked down at him. The actions were so minute that he convinced himself no harm could come of it. “You remember the first time you made me cum?”

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut again. The plan was to cut off the vision of you caressing your breasts and rubbing yourself against him, but all it did was take his mind back to his first time with you. Which was exactly what you’d wanted.

“You wanted to be inside me the first time I did it for you,” you said, “but I couldn’t cum just from that. So, you brought me to the edge. Over and over and over again.”

You shifted until the head of his cock was nestled right between your wet folds. On the down thrust, he’d slide over your clit and your voice would go a little breathier each time. On the way back, he’d notch at your entrance just the slightest and he’d fight the urge to thrust up.

“You were dripping by the time I got inside you,” he growled, hands tightening on your thighs. Okay, so maybe he wanted to play your game. “So hot and swollen for me.”

“Mmm.” You tipped your head back, fingers stroking over your neck then circling your nipple. “I was aching for you to just fuck me into the mattress.” You tilted your hips just a bit and he slid home before he knew what you were doing.

There was a rough groan deep in his throat. Even to himself, he sounded feral. “Fuck. Y/N.” Slowly, you rocked against him. The need to flip you over and pound into you made his fingertips ache as they dug into your flesh. He knew that’s what you wanted, though.

“And then you finally pushed into me. Fuck … you fill me up so good, Sammy. Before you, I’d never had anyone go so deep.”

You punctuated the last word by grinding down on him as hard as you could. His balls pressed to your ass, and your clit to his pelvis. He groped you with a breathy moan as he watched you spread your lips to get more friction on your clit. For a moment, you just fucked him like that. Your cunt grinding down on him. No thrusting.

It drove him insane.

It felt like his cock was getting the world’s best massage. But he needed friction. Needed to feel himself drag along your walls to push the pleasure even further.

Then you braced your hands against his chest and he had his opening. He braced his own feet against the bed and began to thrust. Only short thrusts, but they were enough.

“I came so hard that day,” you said, voice hitching with every thrust. You didn’t even try to hide the pleasure that bloomed from your core. “First time a guy ever made me cum, and you fucked me right through it like it was nothing.”

“Lot harder than you think, baby girl. You squeezed me so tight. Almost impossible to pull out.” The memory snapped his patience. He gripped your arms and forced them behind your back. You fell to his chest. “But hell, if you ain’t the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

With those words, he pounded into you. In the back of his mind, he knew this was a bad idea. He knew he was chasing your climax as much as he was chasing his own. You weren’t the only one suffering through this week. And you weren’t wrong when you said he missed feeling you cum. It was right near the top of the list of things he’d kill to experience. Right under the way your breath tickled his neck when you fell asleep on him.

Your walls fluttered around him. A string of moans fell from each of your mouths.

“Sammy, you have to stop or I’m gonna cum.”

He knew if he kept going, you’d let him. You were just giving him an out. A chance to keep to the punishment he’d promised Dean he’d participate in. But that was it. If he decided to throw in the towel and say fuck it, you’d let him fuck a thousand orgasms into you.

And why wouldn’t you? You were in a perpetual state of horniness ever since the punishment started. Sam was impressed that you hadn’t disobeyed and made yourself cum again.

But Dean would be hurt if you did. Even more so if Sam helped. He already felt inadequate in the relationship. Sam knew, even if Dean would never admit it. That’s why he was being so distant.

With a frustrated growl, Sam gripped your waist and threw you off him. You bounced on the bed. His cock jumped and begged for your body. Precum dripped onto his stomach. You rubbed your thighs together with a frustrated sigh and his fist almost went through the headboard when he hit it.

“This fucking sucks,” he said when he calmed down.

There was a moment of quiet, then you said, “You’re not the one being punished, Sammy. You don’t have to do this with me. I don’t mind making you feel good right now.”

He rolled his head to look at you. You were on your stomach watching him and he knew if he asked you to take him into your mouth you would. You’d let him fuck your face until he came down your throat. You’d do it with a sultry smile and love in your eyes … and an aching core.

“I can’t,” he said. “It’s one thing keeping you on the edge all day or teasing you for a few. But going a whole week without letting you cum? I’d feel too guilty getting off while you got nothing.”

“Dean’s doing it.”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah. ‘Cause he thinks it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“You don’t?”

He shrugged. “The thing I love most about sex is watching you cum. Maybe it’ll be worth it. Maybe it’ll be intense and blow my damn mind after waiting so long. But right now, it sucks.”

He stretched his arm out and you snuggled into his side. It still felt like his balls were bluer than a Smurf, but at least he didn’t feel like he was going to explode the moment you touched him.

“Why’d you agree to it if you didn’t want to do it like this?” you said. “You’re my husband, Sammy. You have veto power.”

“That’s the problem,” Sam said. “Dean wants to be a part of this. He can’t if he’s at the bottom of the ladder. If this is going to work, me and him have to be on equal footing. You know your safe word, though. If this gets too much, he’ll respect it.”

****

You let your head fall back against the fridge and closed your eyes. Not long after your talk, Sam had ushered you out of his room saying he needed a cold shower and you needed to eat.

You made it into the kitchen, but that was about it. You were hungry, sure, but gathering the energy to find, let alone make, anything was a struggle. And now you were leaning against the fridge with your hand between your thighs.

That was the thing with edging. Not climaxing was torturous, but the pleasure of sitting right on that edge was addictive.

After a few minutes of teasing yourself, you sighed and let your hand drop.

There was a light step in front of you. Then an earthy scent filled your nose before a warm hand slid up your inner thigh to cup your core.

You opened your eyes to see Dean’s guilty ones looking down at you. “’M’sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you yesterday. I didn’t … understand. This – it’s just so hard –”

“Dean …”

You cupped his cheek and his forehead rested against yours, hand still caressing the most intimate part of you. His pain was palpable, and you wanted to tell him not to force the words out. Not to put himself through that misery. But it needed to happen. If he wanted to be with you … he had to trust you with his heart.

His other hand slipped behind your neck. “I would kill anything – anyone – for you.” Voice dark and steely. It was a Dean Winchester kind of devotion.

“I love you, too,” you whispered. 

A fierce, bruising kiss. The kind that overflowed with everything he couldn’t bring himself to say in that moment. “You’re so good to me,” he murmured between kisses. “I wanna make you cum right now. Just forget it all.”

You pulled his hand away. “Don’t. I’m okay with the punishment, Dean.” You grinned. “If anything, Sam’s the one who wants you to stop.”

Dean rolled his eyes with an annoyed groan. “Yeah. I’ve been hearing all about it. It’s his own damn fault. But he’ll thank me for it.” His eyes locked with your amused ones. His expression softened. Hands cupped your face. “I just want you to be happy.”

You wrapped a hand around his wrist – your fingers couldn’t even meet – and kissed his palm. “I am happy with you, Dean.”

Misty-eyed, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then dropped to his knees. You blinked. “What are you doing?”

He looked up at you like it was obvious. “I’m gonna eat you out. Then I’m gonna make you some food.”

You groaned and let your head fall back. “Fuck.”

“Not yet, sweetheart.”


	5. Day 4

Dean installed a bath in the communal showers. A fucking bath. After you’d complained for months about not having one. After you’d been told there was no chance in hell you were getting one.

He disappeared the morning before – after working his magic mouth on you against the fridge – and Sam had kept you conveniently busy since then. Right up until a few hours ago when the sun set. Dean found you, then. Frustrated and sprawled out in the middle of Sam’s bed.

“I got something to show you,” he said. Didn’t even wait to see if you would follow him.

And there it was. Right in the middle of the shower area. The biggest, claw foot tub you’d ever seen.

He scratched the back of his head as you stared down at it, mouth agape. “Found it in the local junkyard. Cleaned it up. Probably not fitted properly. But we’ll find out when you fill her up I guess.”

You threw yourself at him and he caught you with a grunt. The man knew how to damn well apologise. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Now here you were. Laid back – you could stretch your legs out! – surrounded by bubbles. Bliss … it was thought up by a person with a large bathtub.

“You still in there?” Dean’s rough voice echoed in the room. “If I knew I’d never see you again, I wouldn’t’ve got the damn thing.”

You gave him a dreamy smile. The kind of smile that made him want to install another hundred bathtubs. “Have I told you how much I love it?”

Grunting, he stopped by the tub and watched as you lifted a leg out of the water, rubbing the soap into it. He dragged his bottom lip through his teeth as his eyes travelled down that leg. “You’re about to show me how much.”

You pouted. “Deeeaannn.”

He smiled as he walked behind you, hand petting the top of your head. “Problem, sweetheart?”

“Wish you would just keep your hands to yourself for the week,” you mumbled, blowing away a pile of bubbles in irritation.

He crouched on the other side of you, eyes shining with stifled laughter. “Now where would be the fun in that?” With narrowed eyes, you scooped up some bubbles and blew them in his face. A sardonic smile later, and he was yanking off his plaid shirt as he stood. “Move over, brat.”

A giddy feeling filled your stomach when Dean slid into the tub behind you. “This is a new experience,” you said, leaning back into him.

His arms encircled your waist. Lips pressed against the side of your head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like that you’re my first for this. I don’t think we’ve had a first together.”

“No.” A hand stroked your stomach. Tongue traced a droplet of water down your shoulder.

“Does that bother you?” you whispered. Because you needed to feel something from him. Anything that wasn’t just sex.

“I don’t think it matters who your firsts are with.” Your stomach dropped at that answer, and you almost turned from the conversation for fear of hearing something you didn’t want to, but then he said, “Just matters who’s with you during your lasts.”

You turned your head to look up at him. “I want you and Sammy to be with me during my lasts.”

Nudging his nose against yours, Dean coaxed you to tilt your face up for a languid kiss. One hand stroked up over your breast to cup your neck. His thumbed traced your jawline. The other hand trailed down your arm to tangle with your fingers.

He pulled you hand out of the water to kiss the palm of it. Twisted your wedding band a moment before letting it slip back into the water.

It occurred to you then that Dean never talked about you and Sam being married. Or how that had ever made him feel. He seemed happy for you both when you signed the papers in that courthouse. But … he was in love with you.

“Dean?” He grunted. “Have you ever wanted to get married?”

“Didn’t think about it most of my life.”

“Most?”

He stiffened against your back and you realised he hadn’t meant to say ‘most’. He drew in a deep breath. You thought he might brush it off. But then – “There was a woman,” – and your heart stopped.

A million things ricocheted through your mind. Jealousy, guilt, sorrow. They all twisted and turned until they cumulated into four words. “Tell me about her.”

“I never really believed in love at first sight,” he said after a pause. “Sounds like a pile of crap. But when I first saw her it was like someone punched me in the gut. There was this voice in my head that said, ‘You’re gonna marry her one day.’ She didn’t have to say anything. Somehow … I just knew.”

Tears burned in the back of your eyes, and you didn’t know if it was because Dean had lost his one true love. Or that you weren’t her. The selfishness of that shamed you to your core.

“What happened to her?” You wrapped your arms around his, now circling your waist again.

There was another long pause. For a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you. Or, at least, he wasn’t going to answer. Then he whispered, “She married my little brother,” and the world dropped from beneath you.

“Dean –”

“No more talking.” He nipped your earlobe. Steel back in his voice. “Spread your legs.” 

Rattled by his confession, you blinked back your tears and did what you were told. Soap ran down your legs as you lifted them out of the water and spread them. Placing them on the sides of the tub.

“Good girl.” The murmured praise in your ear shot heat straight between your thighs. Having spent days on edge at this point, it didn’t take much to get your blood pumping.

Dean put in the effort anyway. He shifted further down until his body lifted your breasts above the water, your bottom half partially floating above him. Rough fingertips circled your nipples. Hardened by the cold air outside the water.

“So pretty,” he said, palming your breasts with a sudden force that had you sucking in air. “You gonna beg for me tonight?”

You licked your lips. Curled your toes. “Please,” you breathed.

“I think you can do better than that, baby girl.”

A whine escaped your throat as his hand trailed down your stomach to cup your core. Two fingers dipped between your folds. Dragged up the slick that hadn’t been washed away by the water and pressed it into your clit.

Your thighs jerked. Body contracted. Squeezed around nothing in anticipation for what was about to come. Your head fell back against his shoulder. Lips suctioned against your neck. Teeth marked. His other hand played with your breasts. Tweaked your nipples.

Hands gripped the edges of the bath as you closed your eyes and hummed through the pulses of pleasure that Dean was eliciting. Firm, slow circles around that little nub that’d been begging for release for days.

“Dean …”

“Beg.”

“Dean, please.”

“Beg, baby girl.” Emphasised by another press against your clit.

A choked sob. “Please. Please. Go faster, Dean. I wanna cum. Make me cum. Pleeeaase.”

He groaned. Squeezed your breast tight and circled his fingers faster. “You beg so pretty, baby. Almost makes me want to give in.” You pushed up into his hand. Moans high and breathy. He pulled his hand away. “Almost.”

An aggravated growl and you dropped your legs back down. Water splashed over the sides. “No more today,” you snapped.

Dean chuckled and pressed kisses down your shoulder. “Sammy push you too much this morning?”

You huffed. “He seems intent on destroying both of us. Got a constant hard on and he punishes me for it.”

“Yeah. He can be a bit of a masochist,” he teased.

“Sadist more like,” you grumbled.

If Dean asked you to spread your legs again, he knew you’d do it. But he kept his hands above the waist. Reading your outburst as a sign that you were reaching your limit for the day. You were being punished, but that didn’t mean he had to make the experience completely unenjoyable for you.

He still wanted you to feel pleasure. This was just meant as an enhancement to that.

“Dean …” The tone of your voice made him stiffen. He’d hoped you’d just forget … but that was an idealistic hope. “What you said before …”

He kissed your temple. “It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not … jealous. Or – Or mad, even. The situation is what it is. I have you in my life. That’s more than I ever expected to get.” Finally, you gave in to the urge and turned until you straddled his lap. He sighed. “Don’t give me those sad eyes. Please. I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Okay. Fine,” he growled, moving his hands to grip the sides of the tub. “Maybe sometimes I wish I’d got up the guts to ask you out first. But … it’s better this way, Y/N.”

“Why?” He rolled his eyes. “Tell me, Dean. Why are you so intent on living an unhappy life?”

“I’m not unhappy!” His shout echoed through the room. He flinched and softened his tone. “It’s better this way because Sammy’s in love with you, too. And if I got to you first … I would’ve never let him into our relationship like he lets me into yours. We wouldn’t have this. We’d all be miserable.”

You smoothed your hands up his chest. Curled them around the back of his neck and leaned into him. “Are you miserable now?”

The answer came to his mind immediately, but he knew you wouldn’t believe him. So, he looked at you. Let you see him mull the question over. Let the truth read in his eyes as he brushed a tendril of hair back behind your ear. “I’m as far from miserable as I’ve ever been.”

Because he had something he was too self-destructive to have achieved on his own. He had you and he had Sammy. It was all he ever needed.


	6. Day 5

“Dean,” you laughed, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

With a flick over his bottom lip and seduction in his eye, he squeezed his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the side of your face before letting you go.

“You guys worked things out, then?” Sam asked as Dean slipped back into the diner booth opposite him.

“Something like that.”

Sam smiled. “Yeah? So, you go all Dr Phil and talk about your feelings.”

Mouth full of burger – “Like pulling teeth.”

“It’s worth it.” Dean shrugged. “Really? You’re so emotionally stunted you can’t even say that?” Sam teased.

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his burger back to the plate. “Look, I’m doing what you wanted, alright? I’m gettin’ in touch with my feelings. But you said nothing about sharing them with you. Quit while you’re ahead, Sammy.”

“Okay,” Sam chuckled. “Okay. I’m – I’m just happy you guys are happy.”

Dean grunted. “Real life Addam’s Family.”

“You know … you’re grouchier than usual today.”

“I’m horny,” Dean growled, eyeing the bathroom door.

Sam’s brows shot up. “Uh … why?”

“Really?” Dean gave him a deadpan look. “Why do you think? I haven’t had sex in almost four days. And before that, it was almost two weeks.” Sam’s lips twitched. Eyes sparkled. “Don’t say it.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Sam said, holding his hands up.

“Yeah. Fine. I listened to your dumb ‘logic’, okay. I’m not cummin’ ‘til she does.” He shifted in his seat. Tugged at the crotch of his jeans. “Haven’t had blue balls since … well, ever.” He grinned at his little brother. “That was usually a ‘you’ problem.”

The bathroom door opened. Dean’s back straightened, eyes focused, as you walked out. “Think she’s wearing underwear today?”

Sam looked over his shoulder at you, brows furrowed. “Look at you,” he scoffed when he turned back to eye Dean’s face. “You look like an animal. Get it together.” Dean didn’t seem to hear him. “I don’t know, Dean. I didn’t think to ask when we left the bunker this morning.”

Just as you reached the table, Dean slid out again and loomed over you. Rather than stepping to the side, he backed you into the table. Hand braced against the tabletop as he shifted his shoulder back just enough to let you shuffle through.

“You’re … unsettling today,” you said with a nervous smile as you slid into the booth.

“Just hungry,” he grumbled, getting in next to you. Body flush against yours, hand gripping your thigh.

You cocked a brow and looked at Sam. He shrugged. “For what, exactly?”

Dean leaned into you. His hand slid to your inner thigh and pushed up until he was beneath your dress and only a hands width away from your core. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“What has gotten into you today?” you chuckled.

Sam smiled. “He’s jumped onto the wagon.”

It took you a moment to get it but when you did, you whispered, “For real? Not even …” You wiggled your fingers in the air.

“I got a better question,” Dean said. “You wearing any underwear?”

Eyes wide, you glanced at Sam … who shrugged again. “Uh …”

“You gonna answer? Or am I gonna have to find out for myself?”

His pushy attitude spiked your adrenaline and your anger. There was a reason you worked so well with the Winchesters. A reason they respected you enough to have this kind of relationship with you – you didn’t take their shit. They couldn’t push you around.

Narrowing your eyes, you lifted the leg Dean had his hand on and slung it over his thigh. Brow cocked. Lips pressed together.

He smiled. Fuck.

Too late, you realised that was exactly what he wanted. He knew you too well. Knew the best way to get you to do something outrageous, would be to make you think you had the upper hand. That you were misbehaving.

“Think I won’t do it, sweetheart?” he said.

You lifted our chin. Sticking to your guns was better than admitting he’d tricked you. “I think if you were going to do it, you would’ve already – oh! … Fuck.”

“Dean,” Sam growled, glancing around to make sure no one heard your moan.

“Dude,” Dean growled back, fingers working inside you. “My dick’s been hard for hours. And she’s not wearing underwear.” His expression said that this was the only reasonable thing to do.

Sam pressed his lips together. Watched your face go lax. Eyes close.

Dean’s forearm worked beneath the table. He pushed his fingers deep and curled them against you. Then flattened his palm against your clit. “Be a good girl and fuck my fingers,” he murmured in your ear.

You let out a whine and looked to Sam for help. The younger Winchester looked around again. Felt his dick swell. He’d talked about this kind of stuff with you before. You’d always seemed interested in public sex – desperate for it even. Your main concern had been that you couldn’t keep quiet.

Well … now was as good a time as any to see if you could do it. Besides … it’s not like you were allowed to cum.

His jaw ticked. He turned his eyes back to you and whatever you saw in them made you shiver. He lifted a heavy, booted foot and pressed it against the inside of your other thigh. Shoved it to the side so your legs were spread wide beneath the table.

“Do as you’re told,” he said. Voice deep. Expression dark.

With your feet barely able to get purchase on anything, you straightened your back. Rolled your hips until your weight settled on Dean’s hand. For a moment, you wondered if you were hurting him, then his fingers began to curl and uncurl inside you. Rubbing along that sweet spot.

You rocked your hips. Clit finding friction against his now wet palm.

Dean laid one arm on the table in front of him and leaned forward. Hid you with his body. Sam settled into his seat. Watched you with heated eyes as he kept his boot pressed against your inner thigh.

Elbows braced on the table, you clasped your hands together and rested your forehead against them. Lips pursed. Teeth clenched. You rocked against Dean’s hand. His fingers did wonders inside you as his palm rubbed your clit.

A press against your inner thigh. Rough boot scraping your skin. “I wanna see your face,” was Sam’s growl.

With a quiet whimper that slipped through the cracks, you dropped your hands. Eyes squeezed shut.

“Look at him,” Dean said. “No one will see. I got you.”

Letting your hair fall forward to cover your face from onlookers, you looked up through your lashes at Sam. His jaw ticked. Hands flexed atop the table. He looked ready to jump over it at you.

“So fucking filthy, baby,” Dean murmured in your ear. “Letting me fuck you like this in public while my brother watches. That the kinda shit that gets you off, huh?”

Your mouth dropped open. Breath came heavy as you fought back your moans. You ground yourself against Dean’s hand. Not caring anymore if you were hurting him. He didn’t seem bothered anyway.

“There you go,” Dean purred. “Look how worked up you got Sammy. Kid looks like he’s gonna bend you over this table. You want that?”

You gripped Dean’s arm – crossed over the front of your breasts – and dug your nails in. Your thighs flexed with the effort to close them on his hand. He chuckled when you couldn’t budge them.

“Guess that’s a yes.” Dean looked at his brother. “Whaddaya think of that, Sammy?”

“I think if you don’t keep an eye on her, she’s gonna cum without permission.”

Dean grinned and looked back down at you. All hooded eyes and wet, parted lips. Rocking incessant against his hand now. Palm soaked in your juices. “Nah … she’ll stop when she’s meant to. Right, baby?” He leaned closer. Breath filled your ear, made your body convulse around him. “Wouldn’t want to disobey us, would you?”

It was so fucking tempting to keep going. Your walls fluttered around him. You were right there. Just had to grind a little harder. Rock a little faster. Finally, you’d get the release you wanted and there was no way Dean would be able to stop it. Except …

It wasn’t worth him being disappointed in you.

With a frustrated growl, you fell back against the seat and pushed his hand away from you.

Dean smiled and sucked his fingers into his mouth. “See, Sammy? She’s a good girl.” Licked his palm.

Blowing out a breath and glaring at Dean, you tried to close your legs again. Your thigh slipped off Dean’s with a squeeze of his hand. But Sam kept his boot pressed against you. That’s when you noticed he was still watching you with that heated look on his face.

Wetting your lips, you leaned forward, arms pushing up your cleavage. If you had to go through this hell, so could he. “Want me to get under the table and suck your cock?” you said, voice husky and low.

His nose flared. Jaw ticked. Eyes blown with lust. Dean coloured the air blue and pushed you back in your seat.

“Don’t even think about it you two. Sammy, she can’t hide that.”

Sam’s tongue flicked out over his bottom lip. “Maybe I don’t want her to.”

“Great. You’re thinking with your dick. Alright. Time to go.”

Dean slid out of his seat and grabbed your arm to drag you out. You only got so far before he realised Sam still had you pinned. He growled out his brother’s name. Finally, after a moment that had Dean thinking the two of you were going to fuck right there, you were set free.

Sam groped you all the way to the car. When you pushed him against the side of it and went to drop down, Dean had enough and wrapped an arm around your waist. “You’re not getting on your knees in the fucking dirt. Sam, get in the damn car.”

Sam yanked open the back door and disappeared inside. A second later, his hand snaked out and dragged you in with him. Dean shook his head and shut the door. “Damn sex addicts.”

By the time he got around to the driver’s seat, your ass was already up in the air, Sam’s cock down your throat. Wet, garbled noises, moans and cussing filled the car. Almost drowned out the roar of the Impala as he started her up.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby,” Sam breathed, a hitch in his throat as you bobbed your head. “Take my dick so fucking good.”

His fingers tangled in your hair. Hips lifted off the seat to meet you halfway with each thrust. Toes curled in his boots. Head fell back against the window as he chanted your name.

Your nails dug into his jeans. Dress fell around your waist. A moan vibrated along his cock when he leant forward and slapped your bare ass.

“Jesus …” He bit off a curse. “Stop. Stop – fuck – stop sucking me, baby. Lick my balls.”

Pulling off with a wet pop, you did as he asked. Fisting his slick cock in your hand and pumping as you sucked on his sack. His lip snarled up. Hips bucked. Your scalp burned where he gripped your hair.

“Let me make you cum,” you panted. “Please.”

Teeth clenched, a growl filled the car. “No. Stop stroking. Just lick my balls.”

You whined and wiggled your ass. “Please. I wanna make you feel good, Sammy. Let me make you cum. You can shoot all over my tits.” You rolled one of his balls in your mouth. “Down my throat.” Licked up his shaft. “On my pussy. Wherever you want.” Gave the head of his cock a tight suck.

A sob fell from Sam’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut. Dean swore from the front seat. “If you don’t cum on her, Sammy. Imma pull this car over and do it myself,” Dean growled.

Body tight, Sam tucked his hands beneath your arms and hauled you up his body. “You’re both as bad as each other,” he growled. “No one’s cumming. Two more days.” He slapped your ass. “You got that?”

You let out a grunt of frustration and fell back down on the seat – a little dramatically if you asked Sam. But, sprawled on your back, arm flung over your eyes, he could see right up your dress to your glistening cunt and he stopped caring about your theatrics.

His cock jumped against his stomach and he wondered what the fuck he’d gotten himself into agreeing to any of this.


	7. Day 6

“You wear her out?” Sam said, head tilted as he watched you sleep face down on the couch.

“Had her up most of the night,” Dan said, lounged in the armchair across from you, reading a porn mag. “Hasn’t let me touch her today. Grumpy.”

Sam smiled. “’Course she is. She’s only been wet for the past week. It’s a killer. The orgasm better be worth it.”

Dean grunted, already losing interest in the conversation. With a shake of his head, Sam disappeared, only to return a few minutes later.

“What’s that?” Dean said, eyeing the small, smooth object Sam was carrying. Glint in his eye, Sam held it up between thumb and forefinger. “Vibrator? Really – I bet she socks you in the mouth.

Sam grinned. “I bet she begs me to make her cum.”

“You don’t mess with horny women, Sammy. Have I taught you nothing?”

Dean’s growl fell on deaf ears as Sam lowered himself between your legs. He lifted the edge of his flannel over your ass and bit off a curse. You weren’t wearing underwear, for one thing, and you were so wet still. Slick was smeared along your inner thighs and outer lips.

“Christ,” Dean groaned, porno forgotten. “I almost feel bad.”

Unable to avoid temptation, Sam leaned down and swiped his tongue through your folds. A murmur escaped your lips. He pushed his tongue inside you. Sucked your labia. Finally, he got a moan out of you. Hips tilted up and pushed against him.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he then switched the vibe onto the lowest setting.

He was living a wet dream. Every sigh. Every moan. Every roll of your beautiful hips. It felt like he was in hell all over again except he wanted to be there. Craved the torture of the throbbing in his jeans.

You were his vice.

Then your eyes opened. Brows furrowed. Whimper falling from your lips as your confused gaze fell on the eldest brother. Dean thought his zipper might bust. His fingers curled brutally into the arms of his chair just to keep from tearing it open himself.

“Oh, Sammy,” you let out on a filthy moan. Your hand flew back. Nails met rough jeans. “Yes … so close.” He pulled away. Switched off the vibe. You sobbed. “Nooo. Sammy, please. Please make me cum.”

Sam shot his brother a self-satisfied grin. “Told ya.”

A pillow walloped him upside the head. “Couldn’t let me sleep, could you?” you growled as Sam gave you a wide-eyed look.

“Told ya,” Dean said, flashing dimples.

“I hate this,” you whined, wedging you hand between your legs and squeezing your thighs around it. “I’ve never been this damn horny.”

“It’s one more day, baby,” Dean said.

Sam scoffed and sat back on the couch. “Easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not getting off either.”

“Yeah,” you said, “but you’re not doing what we’re doing. Going a week without sex is easy.”

“If it was, we wouldn’t be doing this in the first place,” Dean said with a pointed look.

You narrowed your eyes. “My point still stands. It’s different when you’re taken right up to the edge. Feeling the pleasure but never releasing the tension. It builds up.”

“I’ll say,” Sam muttered, adjusting the bulge in his jeans.

Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Let me suck your cock, then,” you said.

“What?” Dean’s brow lifted. Eyes wary.

You went to him. Braced your hands on his thighs and spoke against his lips. “If we’re being dramatic, then let me show you. Let me suck your cock.”

“Well, hell, sweetheart,” he muttered, “all you gotta do is ask nicely.”

You smiled and licked a stripe up his neck. Nibbled on his earlobe. “Pretty please, can I suck your cock, Dean?” you whispered in his ear.

“Fuck, you beg pretty. Can do whatever you like with my cock, baby.”

Sam’s hands went to his belt buckle as you slid down his brother to kneel between his thighs. Dean’s head fell back, eyes closed when you pulled him out. Sam wrapped his hand around himself, eyes trained on the scrap of flannel that just rested over your ass.

“Play with yourself.” Sam’s voice came out wrecked. Broken by his desire. By the fingers you slipped between your wet folds. Teasing. Probing. Keeping yourself on that maddening edge as you took Dean down your throat.

“Oh, darlin’” Dean moaned, fingers threading through your hair as he looked down at you. “I’ve missed this mouth.”

Sam let out a shuddering breath. A moan lilted the end of it. Balls tightened. Ass clenched. All with the effort to hold onto the cum that screamed for release. “Push her head down. She likes that.”

Dean slid down in the chair and braced his feet against the ground without question. With a tight grip on your hair, he forced himself down your throat. A loud, growling groan filled the library. Followed by wet, garbled sounds as he fucked your face.

“Yeesss,” he moaned. “Good girl. So, so, fucking good.”

When you resisted, he let you go. You pulled off with a gasp. A string of saliva stretched from your lips to the head of his cock. He cupped your face. “You okay, baby girl?”

You answered by taking him back down your throat and bobbing. Hand fondled his balls. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Mouth fell open. “Just like that. Fuck me with that pretty mouth.”

Sam gritted his teeth. Hips bucked. He had to pull his hand away. Let the precum drip onto his shirt as his cock throbbed. Your glistening fingers pulled away from your cunt seconds later, no longer able to flirt with temptation. You wrapped them around the thick wrist of the hand Dean cradled against the nape of your neck.

“Little bit more, baby,” Dean breathed, writhing beneath you. “You make my cock feel so fucking good. Oh, yes.”

You pulled off him and sat back. Wiped the back of your hand over your mouth. He blinked heavy eyes at you. “Wha –? What you doing’?”

“No cumming. Remember?” Sam said, though he didn’t feel as smug as he thought he would. Probably had something to do with the aching in his balls.

Dean’s head fell back with a growl. Cock jumped. “Fuck. Yeah – this sucks.”

“One more day, Dean,” you said, and Sam could hear the smile in your voice before you turned it to him.

“Baby,” Sam whined as you crawled towards him. That same look in your eye that always got his pants down around his ankles. “I can’t. If you put that mouth on me …”

You only half listened. You pulled his jeans open a little further and nuzzled his balls. Laved your tongue over them. Sucked them into your mouth as his cock jumped against his stomach.

Breath heavy, Sam let you. Fingers combing through your hair as he watched. “Tomorrow. Midnight. I’m gonna make you cum so hard, baby girl.”

“And you’re not gonna stop,” Dean added. Eyes on your cunt. Hand fisted around his cock.


	8. Day 7

You were spread eagle. In the truest sense of the phrase. Down in the dungeon, naked, on the table. Head hung back over the side of it. Wrists tied to your knees, ankles stretched wide and tethered to the table legs on either side of your head.

Your cunt quivered in anticipation. The brothers had played with you that morning but left you for most of the day. Let your body calm down so you wouldn’t cum at the first touch. They were straining in their jeans. Muscles flexing. Tense with need.

“Just hit midnight, baby girl,” Sam said. You jumped when his rough hand smoothed over the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “Dean. Help me with this.”

You could hear the cord of the Hitachi wand slither across the ground. Your toes curled with the promise of it.

“What’s with you and sex toys?” Dean grumbled as he held the handle of the wand in place against the inside of your thigh.

Sam positioned it until the head pressed against your clit. “How have you not been using toys during sex?” Sam clapped back.

“’Cause I don’t need ‘em to make a woman cum.”

Sam scoffed as he secured the wand with a shorter length of rope. “Neither, but – you know what? Just wait until you get inside her with this thing on. You won’t believe me ‘til you try it.”

The wand turned on. You cried out, arms and legs jolting. It switched off. “Guess it’s in the right spot, then?” Dean said.

Sam chuckled, slapped a hand against your thigh. “She’s ready.”

Boots scuffed against the ground. Thick fingers tunnelled through your hair then your head was lifted so you could look Sam in the eye. He stood at the apex of your thighs, fists braced against the table on either side of you.

“Punishment’s up. You can cum as much as you want,” he said.

Dean tilted your head back. “Then some more.” A rough, biting kiss and he dropped you once more. Eyes level with the bulge in his jeans, you watched as he undid them.

They took their time undressing. It was maddening. Your nipples pebbled beneath the cold of the room. Legs ached with the stretch.

Sam’s mouth was on you. The head of Dean’s cock in your mouth before you could make a sound. He let it rest there. Let your tongue swirl around him as he gave your breasts a leisurely squeeze. Sam’s tongue laved over your folds like he had all the time in the world.

At your first signs of frustration, he pulled away. Dean’s fingers were back in your hair, lifting your head so you could watch his brother. Sam gripped his cock and massaged his head through your folds. Pressing against your clit and catching at your entrance with every pass.

“Sammy’s gonna switch that vibe on,” Dean growled in your ear, heating your body with every breath. “He’s gonna fuck you while you cum. It’s gonna stay on when you’re done. It’s gonna hurt. You’ll cum again. And it’ll hurt again. Over and over until my little brother fills up your pretty little pussy with his cum. I’m gonna fuck your throat while he does. You won’t be able to move. You won’t be able to scream. And you’re gonna love every second of it. Understood?”

Sam slammed himself to the hilt, so your agreement came out as a shout.

“Good girl,” Dean said. He dropped your head again. The vibe switched on and the moment you let out a moan, Dean forced himself down your throat.

You didn’t struggle at first. They both set a steady pace. Every now and then Dean would do a long stroke so you got the chance to breathe, but, for the most part, he didn’t let up. You just had to learn to time your breaths.

Then the vibe hitched up a few settings. Your garbled sounds became more incessant as you tried to moan around Dean’s cock. His moans became breathier with the vibrations. Hands squeezed brutally around your breasts as he fucked you throat harder.

Sam matched his thrusts. You began to writhe. To chase your growing orgasm. It vibrated through your body. Toes curled. Nails dug into the backs of your knees as it approached.

When it hit, it felt like you’d been punched. Seven days of denied pleasure built and built and crashed into you. Your body bowed off the table. Legs and arms strained. Sam let out a long moan as your body clamped down on him. Gripped him. Tried to pull him further in.

“Fuuuuck,” he growled. “This is what I wanted. That’s it, baby. Squeeze my cock.”

You collapsed but that wasn’t the end of it. Your body shook violently with the aftershocks. Wave after wave of intensity washed through you. Your body should have been too oversensitive to keep the vibe on, but there was no stopping the micro-shocks. The small orgasms that tore through you with blinding speed.

“Holy shit.”

You didn’t know who it came from. Had barely heard it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You forgot how to breathe. Cries filled the room – the only indication that Dean had pulled his cock from your mouth.

Sam’s cock hammered into you. Hand slapped your thigh. Filthy words fell from his lips, then Dean was back down your throat and the pain started.

You tried to jerk away from the vibrator strapped to your thigh. Sam turned it down to low but not off. Enough to torture you, but not enough to make your flesh numb. He wanted you to feel everything.

His fists pounded into the table on either side of you. Braced over you, his hips jerked. Growls vibrated through his body and he emptied inside of you. It felt like his soul was being torn from his body. Buried to the hilt. Stretching you past your limits as you convulsed around him, but still, he wanted to push in further. Expletives echoed through the room.

He almost collapsed when he finally pulled out. Then Dean was there, and he stumbled around to your head as the elder Winchester pushed into your cum-filled cunt with a blue prayer.

Wet heat sucked at the head of Sam’s cock and his knees almost buckled. He let you suckle at the sensitive flesh. His body jerked with the painful pleasure of it. Then the vibe turned back up and the vibrations of your moans forced him to brace against the table. It gave you room to suck him down your throat.

“You were right, Sammy,” Dean moaned. Eyes closed. Lips parted as he set a slow pace. “This thing makes her so fucking tight. Feels like she’s tryna suck me in.”

Sam whimpered. Hand going to the back of your head as he pushed down your throat. “Fuck, baby. You’re making me hard again.”

Where Sam had fucked you raw, desperate to finally get his release. Dean prolonged his own orgasm still. Slow, deep thrusts. He pulled you up with him. Your own orgasm rolled through your cunt. And when he finally shot into you, he pushed deep and let his head fall back on a moan.

You jerked when your body became sensitive beneath the vibe again. But Dean didn’t turn it down. Instead, he kept himself buried inside you and turned it to its highest setting. Sam slipped from your mouth and you cried out. Pulled against your restraints.

“Dean, please,” you sobbed. “’S’too much.”

He didn’t listen. Your legs shook. Core screamed in agony. Your safe word was on the tip of your tongue. Then an orgasm hit. It shocked you into silence. Body bowing and tightening once more.

“There you go,” Dean groaned as you convulsed around his sensitive cock. The squeeze of your walls and drag of flesh when he finally pulled free jolted his body back to life. Sent knives of pleasured pain through his shaft.

The vibe switched off after a few torturous moments. The room filled with your whines and pants. Scratch of rope against rope and your binds loosened. Sam helped you sit up as Dean continued to untie you.

“How you feelin’?” Sam said, eyes hooded as he brushed your hair back from your face.

“Satisfied,” you breathed with a smile. “Really, really satisfied.”

“We’re not done yet,” Dean grunted, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulder. “C’mere.”

He rounded the table and wrapped an arm around your waist. Your knees buckled, the moment any weight was put on them, so he supported you as Sam hoisted himself up onto the table. When he laid back, Dean lifted you and placed you, straddled, on his lap.

Sam smiled up at you, hands smoothing along your thighs as Dean moved behind you. They shifted until Sam’s toes touched the ground. Dean stood between his legs. And you sat with Sam cradled against your core.

A rough hand pushed between your shoulder blades until you braced your hands against Sam’s chest. Fingers delved between your folds. Probed for just a moment before dragging your slick up to coat your back entrance.

“Let Sammy in and we’ll start this slow, sweetheart,” Dean said, voice husky with desire.

You let out a sigh as Sam stretched your engorged walls. He licked his lips. Drew circles on your hips with his thumbs as you settled on him.

“Relax.” The command came with pressure against your entrance. A little more force. A burning stretch. And he was slipping inside. “There you go. Good girl.”

“How’s it feel?” Sam said, voice strained.

“So full,” you breathed as you ground yourself against them. Both in to the hilt now.

You rocked. Slow at first. Met each of Dean’s thrusts. His hands gripped your shoulders while Sam’s occupied your hips.

There was no rush now. The frenzy was over. The need to cum. Now, you just wanted to be together. Feel one another’s pleasure. Bruising fingers and deep thrusts.

It was a short while before anyone picked up speed. Even then, there was no pounding pace that you sought earlier. It was steady. Sure. No demands. No desperation. Just slow and deep. That was how your last orgasm of the night came.

Your fingertips tingled. Toes curled.

Sam brought you down to his chest. Pressed his lips to your forehead and held you to his heart. Feet found an unsteady traction on the ground, and he finished moments before Dean did.

The three of you could hardly move when you woke later that morning. You were on your stomach in bed, Sam half laid over your back. His weight pressed you into the mattress. It was safe. Secure.

You had one arm and leg thrown over Dean. His forehead pressed to yours. Finger traced lazy patterns on the side of your face.

“I love you,” he whispered, and you kissed him. Because it wasn’t something he needed a response to. He knew how you felt. It was just something he needed to say.

Sam drew in a deep breath as he woke. Pressed kisses to your back.

“Morning,” you murmured.

He grunted. “How you feeling?”

“Sore.”

“We can take a bath when we get up,” Dean said, rolling so he could wrap an arm around your waist now Sam was braced on a forearm.

“Guessing you learned your lesson,” Sam said. You grunted. “No more touching yourself without permission, but … I say phone sex is on the table if we’re separated again. That was probably the best sex we’ve ever had, but I can’t go through another week like it.”

“Agreed,” Dean said. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

You shrugged, a sheepish smile curling your lips. “I kinda liked it in the end. We should edge more often.”

It was not a well-received request – to say the least.


End file.
